


lunacy

by SeasideFantasties



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: (tfw you forget how penises work and also that lube is a thing that exists), Consensual Sex, F/M, So sue me, Werewolf AU, also this was writer's first time writing smut of any kind and it shows, but like sexy handjob you know, handjob, is that even a thing, it goddamn SHOWS, soft consensual handjob to make your husband a little less horny, that kind of handjob, touch kink???, well too bad it is now, werewolves are constantly horny leading up to the full moon, yeah i basically went with the stereotype that like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 14:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasideFantasties/pseuds/SeasideFantasties
Summary: There's a number of strange instincts that come with the week leading up to the full moon, but Héctor is ashamed of one of them in particular.Imelda might have to do something about that.





	lunacy

If there was one thing that Héctor hated about the full moon transformation to this day- he’d used to hate a great many things about it until Miguel had come along and showed him that it was controllable, that he hadn’t had to isolate himself from his family just to keep them safe (some part of that fact still stung, no matter how much he tried not to dwell on it)- it was the rush of feral hormones that came with it in the few days prior. He could handle the tingles in his limbs, the want and need to chase after any small living thing that happened to cross his path, the rise in aggression that sometimes came with it. Those were usually abated by being in the company of his family, the ones that could keep him anchored, the few individuals that the wolf side would permit to be near him at such a volatile time- and if the townspeople looked at him strangely for a few days afterward, they were usually kind enough not to mention anything, knowing his true nature thanks to the intervention of the Rivera family when the better part of the town had been out for his blood. But the one thing that he couldn’t deal with around his family- the one thing that he was too insecure to bring to them- was the _want_ and _need_ that came with the hormone rush.

He would come awake in the dead of night with Imelda by his side, heat burning a trail down his stomach and the lower part of his body, filled with so much lust surrounding him in a tangled web that he almost wanted to fling himself onto his wife and take her right then and there, and Héctor would be left to either bury his head into the pillows to try and muffle his groans of _want_ , or to rise and head somewhere more private so that he might be able to deal with the urges constructively, ashamed at his own thoughts and how they were so tangled with primitive desire. He would never, _ever_ think of forcing himself on his own wife under normal conditions, and the wolf both respected Imelda as an alpha figure and cared for her, but the hormones made both sides of him so filled with _lust_ and _want_ that his thoughts became a knotted web, and his already shaky self-control over the wolf side of him felt precariously fragile at those times. Héctor didn’t know what he would possibly do to Imelda if his self-control happened to slip during one of those times, but he knew enough to feel disgusted over it every time that it happened, every time that he so much as thought about disrespecting his wife’s boundaries in such a way. And he couldn’t bring himself to tell the family about it, to actually confide in Imelda- fear of them seeing him as depraved, of kicking him out of this home that he’d only just been welcomed to live in again, kept his mouth firmly shut.

(Maybe he _was_ depraved. _Normal_ people didn’t have such violent urges to take what they wanted from their own spouses. _Normal_ people didn’t come bolt awake in the middle of the night and run to the bathroom in order to try and quell such urges, and they certainly weren’t ashamed of themselves over the thoughts, over not being able to control them-

Of course, most normal people didn’t turn into a wolf every month either, so he supposed the point was somewhat moot.)

But he knew that he could not go to his family about it- no, this was a problem of his own making, a problem that he had to deal with himself. Which was how he found himself that night, sitting on the lip of the bathtub that took up most of the master bathroom, laid bare for the world to see as he tried his best to smooth his soaking wet hair out of his eyes. He’d tried filling the bath as quietly as possible earlier, trying to see if he could get rid of the urge some other conceivable way, crawling into the freezing cold bath water and scrubbing at himself so frantically that he’d left huge angry marks across his skin. But all it had done was leave him cold and irritable, and it had done absolutely nothing to dispel the heat coiling in the lower part of his body, the urges that begged for some kind of release. Had he been in an even more feral state of mind, Héctor likely would have turned to biting something in irritation, but instead he settled for the only way to dispel the urges that he knew.

With as filled with lust as his thoughts were, his cock wasn’t in need of much coaxing to begin growing stiff. As Héctor stroked awkwardly with one hand and let the other hang limply at his side, he tried to ignore the heat pooling within the lower part of his body, tried to ignore the way his thoughts sang with lust that was practically begging for some form of release. He hated this, hated how he had to hide away like some kind of alley rat to get his pleasure fix, how his brain’s chemistry seemed determined to run rampant every month around the full moon and force him into this. He’d never been so filled with want and utter _need_ for Imelda before, not even when they were newly married and full of all the awkwardness of a married couple who didn’t quite know their own boundaries yet. Héctor clearly remembered asking for permission in everything he did to Imelda back then, nervous about everything- _can I touch you like this, mi amor, can I rub here, can I-_ so utterly terrified of hurting her, so utterly terrified of making the wrong move and driving her away from him. And bless her heart, Imelda had been so patient with him (usually, there had been times where she would seize him and growl _just FUCK me already, idiota_ into his ear in the midst of her lust), so willing to take the reins for both of them until he had grown more confident in his love-making.

But he’d left. He’d left, and so much had changed, and now he wasn’t quite sure if they could go back to the way it had been before. He wasn’t sure if he could go to her anymore, knowing that he had hurt her, knowing that she had been allowed to grow old without him, and he certainly wasn’t going to force himself on his own wife, no matter how much his thoughts screamed at him to do so. So he suffered in silence, stroking with one hand while part of his mind conjured up images of Imelda’s breasts, perfect and pink and bared for the world to see, the curves of her body, her hair untied and cascading over her shoulders-

He raised a hand to bite down on his moan of desire and _want_ a minute too late, his body jerking slightly as the familiar warmth of pre-cum began to trickle between his hands. It was all too much, too much, he’d thought that this would help but it was just making matters even _worse_. _Dios_ , what was _wrong_ with him, why couldn’t he just control himself around Imelda, around the rest of his family? He felt so ashamed, so _dirty_ , and he couldn’t even bring himself to go back to the bed where his own wife was laying, couldn’t bring himself to lie beside her with these thoughts swirling in his head-

“Awfully late for you to be up, _ay_ , _mi amor_?” The stern voice came from the doorway of the bathroom, causing Héctor’s head to whip around so quickly that it was a miracle he didn’t manage to dislodge something. Imelda was standing in the doorway, silhouetted in the moonlight streaming in through the windows, her unbound hair cascading down over her shoulders and filling him with so much _want_ that it was all he could do to meet her gaze in that moment.

As it was he settled for trying to leap to his feet so quickly that he nearly cracked his head open on one of the shelves lining the walls near the bath, biting down on the pained curse that longed to escape him as he fumbled for something to cover himself. “ _D_ _ios_ _mío_ , Imelda, why aren’t you in _bed?_ This...this _really_ isn’t a good time, _mi amor_ -”

“You’re practically moaning loud enough to wake up half the block, _idiota_ ,” Imelda muttered, though the words lacked the bite they could have held. Her age-lined face somehow looked even more weary as she stepped closer, either ignoring how Héctor flinched backwards or choosing not to comment on it. “Do you want the entire _familia_ to come in here and find you bare as a baby _pájaro_?”

“No!” Héctor squawked out, his voice coming out high and shrill in his panic. “ _Mi amor_ , just let me explain for _un momento_. This isn’t what it looks like, I _swear_ -”

“It _looks_ to me as though you don’t trust me enough to come to me with...whatever _this_ is all about,” Imelda said, raising one hand to gesture at her husband’s naked body, and when she spoke again her voice was quieter. “Did we not agree that we weren’t going to hide things from each other anymore? Did we not agree that you could come to me with any _problemas_ , Héctor?”

She sounded so hurt, so utterly tired and bewildered over why her own husband hadn’t been able to trust her enough to come to her in a moment of need, and it made Héctor’s heart ache as he sat there. He’d hurt her enough by leaving, hurt her enough by staying away for so long without realizing that he hadn’t even _had_ to. He’d left her to raise a child on her own, left her to grow old and have to fend off other suitors that were eager to win her affection, all while he battled with himself and the beast inside- until Miguel had come along and showed him that he didn’t have to hide away, that he could live safely with his family, that the more feral side of him wasn’t necessarily dangerous. And just when they’d started trying to patch things up and repair the bridge that had been burnt between the two of them, just when they had started trying to catch up on all that they had both missed out on for the past few decades, he’d had to go and ruin it all again. When was he going to stop inadvertently hurting the ones he cared about?

“I _do_ trust you, _mi amor_. Please, don’t...I would trust you with my _life_ , Imelda, you know that,” he said softly, pointedly avoiding her gaze for fear of what kind of emotions he would see dancing in her eyes if he dared to meet them. “ _Pero_ this...this is not something that I can... _lo siento,_ Imelda, but going to you would only make it worse-” 

“Make what worse?” Her tone was quiet, questioning, and Héctor didn’t want to tell her, didn’t want to reveal the depths of his depravity in that moment, but she was looking at him with such genuine bewilderment in her gaze that his reservations were temporarily cast aside. Even if she turned away from him or saw him as some sex-starved lunatic now, he had never been able to hide anything from Imelda. She’d always been able to read him like an open book- sooner or later the truth would have come out, and the longer he’d managed to hide it the more volatile her reaction likely would have been. His wife hated when people hid things from her, thinking her too weak to handle whatever sensitive information they had to offer, thinking that it would offend her feminine sensibilities, and he knew enough to know that he couldn’t afford to make the same mistake. Taking a shaky breath and running his hands through his hair absent-mindedly, Héctor began, his voice wavering.

“I...you know, around the full moon, I get...well, I turn into a cranky _anciano,_ for one thing, but...I get these... _urges_ , and I...I don’t know what to _do_ with them, Imelda, and acting on them wouldn’t be fair to you-” He broke off, swallowing thickly. “ _Dios_ , I turn into some...some depraved _lunático_. All I can think about is your hands all over me, or how _good_ you would feel with me inside of you, or how...or how _bonito_ you are when you let your hair down. And part of me wants to... _dios_ , _dios_ , I can’t...I feel like I can’t help myself, like I’m just going to go _loco_ and try forcing it someday, and it wouldn’t be...it wouldn’t be proper, it-” Realizing that his tone had taken on a hysterical edge, Héctor paused, his body trembling from the weight of the emotions that he was releasing. “You are my _world_ , Imelda, _mi sol y estrellas_ , and for me to even _think_ about treating you that way...I just...it’s worse when I wake up next to you, b-but it’s not your fault, and I don’t want...I don’t want to force anything, I don’t _want_ to rush into this, s-so I-”

He hung his head then, hearing Imelda approach but not having the willpower required to try and face her. “So _this_ happens. _Por favor,_ I just...I didn’t think...don’t tell the _familia_ about any of this, they already have enough to worry about when it comes to me. I’m the _cobarde_ who couldn’t even come to his _esposa_ and talk about this. This is my fault, not yours.” His last set of words came out so quietly that they were almost inaudible, regret and pain injected into every syllable. _“Lo siento,_ Imelda.”

There was silence for several moments, awful silence that left no clues as to what Imelda was thinking, what she might be deciding on as far as a course of action to take went. It was almost worse than knowing that she had walked in on him at a time when he was at his most vulnerable, and Héctor almost wanted to scream in that moment, wanted to do anything to break the silence so that he wouldn’t have to nervously wonder at what his wife was doing. And when her voice finally broke through the silence, her words were so quiet and soft that he couldn’t decipher the emotion lurking within them, making him even more worried about her response. “So you have...urges, _sí_?”

“Yes,” he murmured out, expecting her to launch into a tirade at any moment, tell him how despicable he was for even daring to think about her in such a demeaning way- 

“And you feel as though you cannot go to anyone, not even your _esposa_ , because they would dismiss you as _loco_. But yet you need the release, you need some way to deal with it. Am I correct?”

“Yes…” He was nearly trembling at this point, and it wasn’t entirely due to the coolness of the bathroom anymore. He didn’t dare hope that Imelda wasn’t going to dismiss him, wasn’t going to say that he was absolutely _loco_ for having such thoughts, but her tone seemed so gentle at that moment, so full of understanding, that Héctor could almost bring himself to believe that she wanted to trust him in that moment, wanted to help him-

But it wasn’t until her hands met his shoulders in a gentle but firm grip that he dared to raise his gaze to meet hers, seeing the demure and yet strangely sly smile curving the edges of her lips as she stood there. “Would you like me to help you with that, _mi amor_?”  

 _Yes, yes, oh DIOS yes_ , he wanted to spit out, wanted to leap upon her with fire in his gaze and ask what had taken her so long. But instead Héctor forced himself to stare in shock at her, too afraid to say anything, too afraid that his thoughts would turn his words into a babbling mess. It was several moments before he felt that he could form a coherent sentence once more, his thoughts still swirling at a mile a minute within his mind. “S- _sí,_ but what if I...I don’t want to get carried away, I don’t want to hurt you-”

" _Basta_ ,” Imelda snapped, the silver streak in her hair somehow making her look even more fierce and determined as she cut him off. “We’re doing this. Move forward a bit, will you?”

He did as he was told- how could he not? Imelda had always been such a commanding force of nature, even when they had first been married and time had not given her rougher edges yet, and he had been one of the few permitted to see the softer side underneath the tough facade that she showed to everyone else. Being left to be the caretaker of her family at such a young age would be enough to toughen any person during those times, and it had for Imelda- but she had never been cold to him, had never been quick to turn him away or deliver venomous words towards him the way she had with other suitors that had shown themselves over the years, ones who had been more interested in her for her beauty than anything else. Héctor had been the one to look beyond her beauty and see the stunning personality hidden under it, see the woman who had so much potential to be both fierce and soft at the same time, and she had loved him for it.

 _Until you left_ , an insidious little voice whispered, but for the time-being he was choosing to ignore it. He simply slid forward along the edge of the tub, wondering what Imelda had in mind, wondering just how she was going to stop these hormones of his from running wild when every measure of prevention he’d turned to had done absolutely nothing in the way of quelling his lust. “ _Mi amor_ , I’m still not sure about-”

Her hands met his sides then. Just a light touch, her fingers practically ghosting over the curves of his hips and pelvis, but it was enough to make Héctor’s thoughts stutter to a screeching halt, enough to send an involuntary shudder rolling through his frame as he sat there. Biting his lip to keep yet another damning moan from escaping his mouth, Héctor hunched forward, his breathing coming out ragged despite his best efforts to keep it under control. “‘Melda-”

“Still just as sensitive as ever, _mi amor_ ,” he heard her mutter, her hands gliding upwards as his entire frame continued to shudder. “Did you really think so many years apart would make me forget what you liked?”

 _Maybe,_ he wanted to say. _I thought you hated me for leaving,_ he wanted to say. He hadn’t felt so much as a friendly touch from any other human being for what felt like eons, and it had left him so touch-starved and so craving of attention- even as he shied away from it, afraid of what the more feral side of him would do should he come into contact with any unexpected company, afraid of getting too close to people because of the lies that he had been fed- that he hadn’t even realized what he’d been missing out on, hadn’t realized how well Imelda had pandered to him. He wanted to convey all that and more, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper full of pure _want_ , the noise coming out animalistic and raw as he struggled to raise his head and look pleadingly at his wife.

“Do you like that, Héctor?” Her voice was soft, giving no sign of what her true emotions were away, and his whole body jerked again as her hands moved up and down his body, ghosting against his skin, never staying in one place for long. _Dios_ , he’d forgotten how good she was at this. Already his body was trembling, practically begging for some kind of release, and she hadn’t yet done anything that was anywhere in the realm of sexual to him yet. To the side of his brain that was filled with feral instinct, instinct that would have driven him to leap upon her and take what he wanted had his mind not been an incoherent mess at the moment, it was almost torture to sit here and let her do whatever she wished to him. He wanted his needs met, wanted the lust that was burning a scorching path through his system to be dispelled, and he hated that he was being _teased_ like this- it had been a favorite habit of Imelda’s back when they were first married, to touch him and whisper to him but to hold off on doing anything until he was a quivering, begging mess, but he’d never thought that it would quite literally come back around to bite him. He hadn’t even thought that he’d ever be in a situation like this with Imelda ever again, after all that he had done, all that had transpired, but it seemed that this night was serving to defy his expectations in every possible way.

A ghost of a breath against his ear then, and he turned just enough to bring Imelda into his line of sight as she spoke. “Tell me, _mi amor_ , are you enjoying this?”

He didn’t even know if he _could_ speak, in that moment, his mind so full of want and need that he was half afraid any thoughts that he managed to form wouldn’t come out nearly as coherent as he wanted. But he had to try, for Imelda’s sake if not his own. Trembling as her hands hit a particularly sensitive spot, his eyes reflexively shutting in bliss for a moment, Héctor managed to stammer his words out around his rapid breaths. “Imelda...nnnngh, _mi amor,_  that is... _tus manos son tan b-buenas_. _P-por favor_ , Imelda, l n-need…”

“Not yet, Héctor. Wait a moment-” Oh, she was _enjoying_ this. He could tell from the waver in her voice, however valiantly she tried to hide it. After spending so long being damn near celibate, the two of them were practically like two rabbits in the spring, falling over each other in their haste to tend to each other’s needs again. Especially Imelda, he thought- on the occasions where she was in control of what transpired in their bedroom, she savored every minute of it. She was gentle, always gentle and loving and asking permission before she did anything that was considered rougher than usual, but he had been able to tell that a part of her loved having unconditional ownership, his body hers to do with as she pleased. And that desire was coming back for both of them now, as they looked into each other’s eyes, the tension between them practically thick enough to cut into with a knife. Héctor was not yet bold enough to act on his side of the desire, no matter how much he wanted to care for Imelda as she was caring for him in that moment- fear of how rough his more feral instincts would make the act kept him from initiating, from asking his wife if she would permit him to have just as much control over her body as she was having over his.

Imelda moved away for a moment, bringing his thoughts to a shuddering halt as panic washed over him for a split-second. Surely she did not mean to just leave him here after she had promised to give him some form of release, surely she did not mean to go back to bed and leave him with lust still burning through his body, with his thoughts still a tangled mess-

And then he felt hands embracing his already half-hard cock, firm yet gentle, and his panic completely disappeared.

 _Oh_ , he thought to himself, for it was all he was _capable_ of thinking in that moment. It was all he was capable of _doing_ as Imelda’s hand began to stroke, her thumb running over the raised veins and circling his sensitive head, and he had to bite down on the muffled curses that threatened to escape his mouth as his cock gave an involuntary twitch in response to her actions, instead raising his hand to try and bite into it to stifle any noises that he threatened to make- _dios_ , at this point he was going to wake the entire family up if he didn’t keep quiet! Of course he immediately regretted the decision a moment later, for he’d forgotten that he had residual fangs at this point, and they were quick to pierce through his skin like needles, causing him to curse softly and withdraw the wounded appendage. Were his thoughts really so tangled up in the midst of his lust that he’d forgotten about the basic changes that his body had already gone through in the days leading up to the full moon?

He didn’t have time to worry about it, however- as Imelda’s fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot upon the surface of his cock, Héctor’s entire body twitched, ragged pants escaping his throat as both of his hands went to his sides, fingers practically digging into the tile of the tub’s edge. “ _Mi amor, mi amor_ , it’s s-so good. Don’t stop, Imelda, _por favor_ , don’t _stop_ -” His words ended on another shudder and a stifled moan as she stroked gently, his cock already starting to throb in the midst of all the attention that it was receiving. “‘Melda, please, please...let me-” 

“I don’t think you’re quite there yet, _mi amor_.” She was _teasing_ him. She knew full well what she was doing by leaving him in such a state, and she was practically relishing in it. While it was good to know that Imelda was just as much of a little hellion in sexual situations as she had ever been, it made the wolf side of Héctor want to let out a frustrated growl, want to bite something out of frustration that he was being kept from the release that his body so desperately craved. He could never be angry with Imelda, never be angry as long as she was giving him some degree of pleasure, but he was so close, so _close_ , and his body was practically trembling with need, pre-cum already beginning to leak from his cock as he sat there. “Just a bit more.”

“‘Meldaaaa,” he groaned out as her fingers curved around his head once more, stroking the area around the slit firmly but oh so gently. " _Please_ , please, I-” 

“I missed this, you know.” Imelda’s voice was quiet, and he could barely hear it past the blood pounding in his ears as he sat there, but he could hear the hurt and longing and _need_ within it. “I missed putting my hands all over you. I missed the noises you used to make. I missed being this intimate with you.” She was stroking more firmly now, and it was all he could do to hold back the oaths that threatened to escape his mouth, clenching his teeth as ragged pants escaped him. “I was so angry with you for such a long time, I almost forgot how _good_ you feel.”

He couldn’t answer anymore- his mind was such a tangled whirl of emotions that he instinctively knew whatever words tried to come out of his mouth would inevitably dissolve into frenzied gibberish. Instead he simply nodded in response to her words, eyes closed and fists clenched as his entire body shuddered, heat pooling in the lower part of his body as he sat there. _Mierda,_ she was so good at this, almost _too_ good for having not touched a man in however many years. Her touch was practically whipping him into a frenzy at that moment, strangled whimpers and moans escaping through his clenched teeth, and it was all he could do to look at Imelda with pleading in his eyes then- he was so close, so _close_ , couldn’t she see that-

A slight nod from Imelda was all it took- a silent _go ahead._

Stars exploded in his vision, his whole body arcing as the orgasm tore through him. His breathing ragged and his mind reeling, it took Héctor’s vision a moment to clear, quiet exclamations that might have been oaths escaping his mouth as he took a moment to assess the damage. Fluid had spilled all over the lip of the tub, all over the tile floor of the bathroom- _dios_ , he must have been even more in need than he had imagined, judging from the sheer quantity that seemed to have exploded out of him. He almost wanted to feel ashamed in that moment, wanted to apologize for making an utter mess out of the bathroom, but while he was still in the midst of his lust, still coming down from his orgasm, Héctor couldn’t bring himself to care about what had transpired. He hadn’t been fucked like that in quite a few decades, after all- it was clear that time had made Imelda no less experienced when it came to sexual acts, and the very fact filled him with a detached sort of glee. He hadn’t experienced pleasure like this...at least since they were recently married, if not longer.

He’d been missing out, if tonight was anything to go off of.

When he finally trusted himself to form a sentence without hopelessly tripping over his words, Héctor spoke up, chuckling under his breath. “I certainly made a mess of things, _ay, mi amor_?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Her voice was wry as she spoke, coming closer to lay a hand on his shoulder. “At least you didn’t get any on the ceiling this time around.”

The reminder that he could be overly enthusiastic in his climaxes would have been enough to make Héctor blush, had he been in the proper state of mind for such a thing. Instead he let himself lean against Imelda’s touch, the corners of his lips curling up in what might have been the ghost of a smile. “And you’re just as good at this as you ever were, _diosa_. If I’d known what I was missing out on, I would have returned even sooner-”

" _Callate_ ,” she sputtered out, shoving her fist into his shoulder as they both laughed. “I wasn’t so angry with you that I would forget what you liked, _idiota_ .” A pause as Imelda allowed herself to survey the room, and then she was speaking again. “Well, I’ll see about cleaning up this mess, _sí?_ You can cover yourself and go back to bed, _mi amor_.”

“No, ‘Melda, it’s...it’s _my_ mess, let me-”

“ _Idiota_ , I’m the one that _caused_ you to make the mess-”  They both broke off, staring at each other then and grinning slightly. For a moment it was almost like they were young and newly married again, arguing over what seemed like the simplest of things- who would clean around the house, who would trim the hedges, who would go out for groceries or other home supplies- and it was almost a sign that perhaps things could go back to normal in their lives with time, that they could have what they had had before. But in the next instant the spell was broken, Imelda pulling away slightly to gather towels and necessary cleaning supplies. “Are you sure you are all right? Do you need anything else from me, Héctor?”

 _Yes_ , the more feral part of him wanted to spit out. _I could go all night, diosa, I really could._ But the part of him that was still exercising some degree of self-control kept his mouth firmly shut as he sat there, wanting to keep from rushing things, wanting to keep from forcing a decision onto his wife. He didn’t yet have any idea as to whether she wanted to be _that_ intimate yet, and there was the fact that Imelda had always been far more vocal than him when it came to sexual acts- the last thing they needed to do was bring the entire family in to investigate the sources of the noise, especially the younger members. So he simply shook his head slightly, even as part of him screamed not to. _I can wait another day, mi amor. I waited ninety years already._ And if a few more was what it took for her to be entirely comfortable with his presence in the house, comfortable enough to let him have that kind of access to her again, then so be it. But he did speak up softly after a moment, his words halting. “I mean...I am absolutely fine now, _diosa_ , b-but maybe tomorrow...if you want to! You know I would never force anything on you-”

“ _Dios,_ Héctor, of _course_ I would be willing to care for you,” Imelda said, sounding exasperated even in the midst of her cleaning. “You would be absolutely _loco_ to think otherwise.”  

“Only _un poco_ , ‘Melda.”  The towel that slapped into his face a second later was almost enough to make him regret using the old joke against her, but Héctor still wasn’t able to help the laugh that escaped his mouth at that moment, and if he looked closely enough he could swear that Imelda was smiling a bit too.

“Go to _bed_ , _idiota_.”

 _Our bed_ , some part of him muttered, almost as gleeful as a schoolgirl. Instead he simply nodded, ducking out of the room and covering himself with the briefs that had been set out before sliding back into bed again, staring up at the ceiling as lust and adoration still buzzed somewhere within his system. Perhaps the two of them could never get back to the way they used to be- not entirely, at least- and perhaps they would still have to work up to being as intimate as they had been before, but tonight seemed to be the first step in a long road of learning to accept each other again. She’d already permitted him to enter her bed, and he had already permitted her to touch him like she had used to, after spending countless night after countless night thinking that these desires made him depraved or dirty- she’d tended to his needs beautifully, which was big enough of a starter step as far as he was concerned.

It seemed to be a sign of things to come, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future brought with it.    

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I don't really know what the point of this is either. 
> 
> I guess I have the Coco Discord to blame for it, in a way- they (or two people in particular YOU KNOW WHO YOU FUCKIGN ARE) kept pushing me to write smut and finally I caved in and just "YEAH OKAY TIME TO WRITE SEXY TIMES [insert that angry "I GUESS" comic here]). Note that this was my first time EVER writing smut for a fandom so I apologize if it seems a bit clunky in some places (and also pardon the complete lack of research because I apparently forgot that lube is a thing that exists). But hey, at least it's nice consensual sex. 
> 
> And at least I'm working on SOMETHING werewolf-related, right??? 
> 
> (Fun fact: The original Google Doc for this fic was titled "furrysex" and I absolutely will NOT apologize for it.)


End file.
